Broken and Repaired
by AlixenTemp
Summary: The Lone Wanderer thinks long and hard how he ended up where he is. One-shot spawned from my thoughts on my most played character.


Disclaimer: I own nothing of Fallout except a copy of it for every system and all the add-ons for the 360.

~~Broken and Repaired~~

---

He had trekked through the Sacred Bog and reached the giant punga fruit after a long soggy walk. And then for a while everything had gone black.

When he awoke the air seems heavier, almost with a purple tinge. It hadn't felt... right. As he retraced his path out of the unpleasant place he had come in contact with many strange things.

Giant Vault-boy statues with messages inscribed on them, saying what was already deep in his mind, the festering depression always so close to overcoming him. He had always kept it at bay with his adventures; but his trip to Point Lookout had been the first he had taken in weeks. His mood darkening and rather than a desire to adventure he had mostly just felt tired.

And so he kept walking.

A red scalpel cutting the earth around him. As the boat driver cut open his head.

He walked.

Nuka-quantum bottles dropping from trees and exploding like mini-nukes. Likely as his skull was opened brutally and a thunk of his brain ripped out.

He walked.

The ground being sown up with a needle and thread. As he was in turn sewn back up.

He walked.

The skeleton he had simply known to be his mother laid upon the medical table. A party hat and balloons included. The broken man he had become all the more proven when the sight had barley even made his emotions flicker. He knew pain and sorrow must be buried still, somewhere deep, but they no longer came up easily.

He walked.

He remembered the bodies as he walked knee-deep in the swamp water. People who had never died but still could easily be taken away, and people he had seen die. Amata has stung particularly because for all he knew she was indeed dead, and it would be his fault.

He remembered clearly that day. His father had died not even a week ago and he had received a message from her; she had asked for his help insinuating that because he head been forced to leave or die, he somehow couldn't care any more. He'd been angry, so very filled with rage at the world in general, and when Butch had suggested sabotaging the Vault.

He had done it, mind still wriggling with bitterness and sorrow. He wanted them safe in their little Vault, and knowing nothing of true hardship, to feel everything he had. Only as the systems sparked and killed Stan, kind and friendly Stan, had he realised what he had done. The Overseer had confronted him, and he had finally got to put a bullet in the head of the man that had forced him out, but it hadn't felt good. Not at all.

Amata had seen right through him as she always did. Her words had ripped him open, chewed him up and spat him out, as she had told him that she hated him. She would kill him if she ever saw him again. He didn't blame her now he was in his right mind. So far he didn't know if she was sincere for he had never seen her again as she had fled the Vault with the others.

While it was indeed a personal crime driven by rage it was hardly the only one. In the weeks after his fathers death he had been someone... else. He had no longer been the boy James had raised. He hadn't been the Hero of the Wastes that Three-dog gushed about.

He had murdered Garza in cold blood, putting a bullet through his bad heart, and not even flinched as Doctor Li had screamed at him. He had excused himself in his pain-crazed mind; Doctor Li had been bitching constantly and giving orders like a Queen since they had started the escape, yet constantly turned to him when anything practical had to be done. She had wanted him to risk all their lives by hunting down medicine, waiting around while the Enclave hunted them, surrounded by feral Ghouls. After they had escaped he hadn't even walked a foot towards the Citadel; he had walked the other way to Megaton.

Moriarty had been in a terrible mood, hassling Gob and driving the usually emotionally untouchable Nova to tears. The bar owner had made the mistake mistake of cursing the Lone Wanderer when he had just got back. Eyes cold, colder than they had ever been, he had raised his Magnum and ended another life without even an instants pause. As Gob had looked on in horror and Nova had screamed he had glared at their reactions and walked out. Everyone was happy to let him solve their problems as long as he jumped when they said jump. When he handled it his own way they never liked it.

Only his trip into the Pitt had snapped him out of his pain induced ruthlessness and hatred of all things. When he had come face to face with the "cure", which just happened to be the only baby he had ever seen in his life. He had been part of the last generation in the Vault, and they had been a year or so off pairing up to bring the next generation into existence. The sight of the helpless infant, the beautiful little girl, perfect in a worlds he had thought lacking any innocence... Slavers who cared about their little girl, with a genuine love he had never really seen, and only experienced from his father. He had been unwilling to take her from her parents.

He would have been willing to let Amata kill him if it would have fixed things. Rebuilt her life. He'd had nothing to live for anyway. But even if she was still alive killing him wouldn't make things better. He had learned that as he killed Autumn and crippled the Enclave. The searing agony of his fathers loss hadn't faded, and without something to distract him he had nothing to do but sit in his home brooding.

He walked on, ever the Lone Wanderer.

And that final message inscribed onto a oversized Vault-boy Figurine:

"Dead mom, life in a nuclear wasteland and not a friend in it. Yeah, your not exactly blessed."

Mister Burk, taunting him. Fearlessly he approached. He had already done this and he had made the right choice. He had done it right. This time in his dream he never got the chance; because with a flash of burning agony through his skull he awoke.

He had finished his adventure in Point Lookout with vigour after that, driven on by the agony they had dredged up in him, and he had made them pay. He had found forgiveness in Christ there, even though his teacher had been killed, and had finished the task she had left him.

He dwelled on those he knew and had fought beside, those who fought beside him for many reasons and few of them friends, none of them true enough friends to stay with him when it didn't gel with their own drives.

Butch had left him in death; after sabotaging the Vault they had met up in Rivet City. Both he and Butch had only each-other left to remember the Vault, and so they had travelled together until they where separated, and he found Butch decapitated by a Deathclaw. He still carried his old switch-blade. Butch had called it his toothpick. Only in the last months of the old bullies life had they become close friends.

Charon who only followed him because of his contract. He had never found a way to penetrate the Ghouls defences, if indeed there where even any there. He suspected the ghoul had been truthful when he said he had no will of his own left aside from when it came to causing death. He had given

the contract to Gob's family in the Underworld, and he assumed Charon was still there.

Clover whom he had bought during his grief. He had lost himself and ran from his pain in her arms many times, and she had enjoyed every moment, but at the end of the day she wasn't too far different to Charon. She 'loved' whomever held her leash. He didn't know where she was, after he

had returned from the Pitt, being himself again, he had wiped paradise falls out with the Brotherhood and then freed Clover. He imagined somewhere she had found another group of slavers and was in the 'service' of their leader.

Paladin Cross had simply been his 'backup' from the Brotherhood. She had followed him for his fathers memory and because their missions fitted well. They had never truly been able to converse, for she was a woman of action. Usually she rebuked him and pointed out if he wanted conversation he should have travelled with a Scribe.

Fawkes who had been so calm and friendly. He was the closest thing to a friend the Wanderer had out in the Wastes. Even then they had eventually parted ways, because the Wanderer was winding down and tiring of constant travel, whereas Fawkes wished to go on a great journey to find himself, his purpose. He had seen too much death, but Fawkes wanted to see more of the world. Ironic, the Wanderer could see more of the world than anyone for hundreds of years had from where he sat.

Dogmeat... his beloved dog... raider bastards. He had sent his most faithful friend to wait for him in safety so the Enclave would not kill him. Days later searching him out he had found the beloved pet dead, some of his attackers with their throats ripped out next to him. He had smiled; the dog had been the most affectionate creature he had ever come across, but when threatened he had been a terror.

All had left him. Every one of them. He couldn't really blame Butch or Dogmeat, but nor could he really ignore the fact he was angry that they had gone. Just like he was angry at his father for leaving him a second time. But he forgave them, because everyone died eventually.

For a time he had considered settling down and marrying. But as he sat and thought he tried to think of a single example of a happy couple he had met in the Wasteland. None really came to mind. At least no 'normal' couple. That and his own almost-maybe-possibly strokes with romance had ended in disaster.

It had been generally accepted in the Vault that one day Amata would be the overseer and he would be the vault Doctor after his father. It was also generally accepted since they where the closest of friends, and each others teenage fumbling partner, that they would also be the main couple of the Vault. He realised that was probably one of the reasons the Overseer hated him.

Not only had he seen him as not good enough for his daughter like any father, he had been the seeds of none-conformist personality rubbing off on the future Overseer and dreaded the effects if he where her husband. Yet he needed not worry; in the end the Wanderer in rage had ruined any chance of even friendship. Maybe if he had helped calm the situation had he been in his right mind... perhaps he and Amata may be expecting a little James of their own even now safe in the Vault...

When he had first arrived in Megaton he had shared flirting with Jenny Stahl. and Moira Brown. There had been a definite spark between Lucy West and himself, but they had ended up just friendly acquaintances after he had helped her with finding her brother. Nova had even looked him over with appreciation. He supposed the smooth and clean body of an ex-Vault Dweller was a nice change compared to those who had grown in the Wasteland, and something almost unheard of too. He tried not to imagine what that could mean for the girls of 101, Amata, Suzie, Christine and the others, forced to flee the Vault without even a weapon.

His thoughts shifted to Clover again. There had never been any spark there, no affection or love. It had purely been about lust. She was programmed to lust after whoever happened to own her, and she was as physically attractive as any young woman in the wastes. They had spent many hours in each-others arms but they had never shared a kiss of love or held each-others hands fondly. No, there had never been any hope for anything there at all.

He had even shared flirtations with a girl named Bittercup in Big Town. Still, from what he could tell she had been the girlfriend of every man in big town, so he had never felt all that special to her. She occasionally gave him little gifts and seemed happy to see him, but really they where only distant friends. They had never even shared a kiss.

But one woman above all stood a stark example to why he was marriage was never going to happen for him as far as he had been able to see. Sentinel Sarah Lyons. He was madly in love with her to this day. And he knew the feelings where mutual. They had fought side by side, gone through so much, and had both come out alive and stronger than ever. He would never stop loving her. Which ripped him apart because they could also never be together.

She had stated in no uncertain terms that the feelings between them would have to wait until the Brotherhood's work was done with. A fool may have taken this well. But what it translated to was that they could never have anything beyond being soldiers in arms with too much sexual tension. The Brotherhood would never be done with their work and certainly not in their lifetime if the Wasteland magically had no more problems left.

Elder Lyons was an old man. The Wanderer had no illusions that soon enough he would be gone. Then Sarah would be more busy than she had ever been before. Her work would not be finished; it hadn't even really started. She was destined for greatness; to be the Leader of the Brotherhood until she died. She was too much her fathers daughter; much like he was too much his fathers son.

That was why he hadn't stayed with the Brotherhood. He had been made a part of Lyons Pride. He would have had food, a bed, and even perhaps a willing lover in Sarah whenever the tension of pushing each-other away overflowed. He would have had a home. But he couldn't spend the rest of

his life being the Rothchild to Sarah's Elder Lyon's. He knew that he would eventually end up her closest advisor and friend much the same way the Scribe and Brotherhood Leader where. But those two weren't also in love; simply long-time friends.

He left because he couldn't spend the rest of his life watching the woman he loved with all his heart working herself to death, and knowing that his very presence was a pain sharper than any Deathclaw nail every time their eyes met. So he again took up the mantle of the Lone Wanderer. It hurt, but he didn't mind, because she would be surrounded by those she grew up with. she had a life. Her happiness came first to him.

Then he had been abducted by aliens.

Insane. Stupid. Unbelievable. Something that just didn't happen. Little green men on a starship. He had then fought his way to the bridge with a Waster, a Cowboy, a Samurai, and a U.S Army Medic from Anchorage and the smartest little girl he had ever met. They had then won a ship-to-ship battle over Earth against another ship. He had even become the Captain.

So here he sat, months after the space battle, looking out into the stars with wonder lighting up his face. So much had changed so quickly. Elliot was making great progress with repairing the damage they had done to the ship with the Wanderer and Sally helping. They where discovering how to truly work it. Sally had almost competed a map of the whole ship, though it had taken her some time.

Ah, Sally. She was almost a daughter to him, certainly a little sister. Neither of them had anyone in this world; and so they decided that they would have each-other. She treated him like a big brother, sometimes even a father, and as the one with the greatest knowledge of the ship was his second in command.

Elliot was a capable medic and a fairly good friend, much easier going to talk to than those hardened by the wastes. He was a kind hearted man, and it had taken him time to get over what had happened to his squad and the world he knew, but he was still far and away the most pleasant adult

conversation the Wanderer had experienced outside the Vault.

Toshiro was slowly picking up English, and the others where in turn picking up bits of Japanese, and it seemed he had decided to stay with them. Paulson had returned from weeks on wandering depressed and glad to be back with them; as the Wanderer had experienced the wasteland was nowhere to resume a life. A life could be had if you where born out there; but if you had been used to something different the transformation was just too much. Since then Paulson had come to accept the Zeta group.

The ship itself was a marvel. Clean air that tasted much fresher than anything the Vault filters could dish out. There where machines that could bring into being any food you programmed into the computer. The ship also had advanced self-repair systems that one only had to know how to activate

and an interface that analysed the users language and tailored the ships control to them for easy use. Warmth, shelter, good food, and soft sleeping pods. Different to a bed, but still comfy.

The Lone Wanderer had learned something about himself in the wastes. Two things actually. One was that he longed for a family again, above all else. People who loved him for who he was, not what he stood for or opposed. People who wanted him to be with them, to love them. He had also

learned that he was an explorer at heart, an explorer in a ruined land that by its very nature destroyed the soul. Sucked the joy from a person and left them a cynical and depressed husk.

The Lone Wanderer was happy for the first time... ever? He had a family. A sister-daughter in Sally, and a crew, who wanted him rather than truly needed him. He had a home in the Mothership they had taken over and where learning to fly. And he had an entire galaxy to explore, full of beautiful

stars and nebula. To coin a phrase, he would go where no man had gone before.

Sally came over to him where he was sat still entranced by the stars and kissed him on the cheek.

"What's up, captain?" The cheery girl asked him with a grin. She had a toy horse she had found clutched under one arm.

And for the first time in what felt like forever the Lone Wanderer smiled. Sally didn't notice the single tear of a broken man repaired run down his cheek.

_**End**_

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Authors addendum.

This turned out a lot longer than I intended. I was aiming at perhaps ten paragraphs at most, maybe half an hours thought and writing. Guess my thoughts ran away with me.

This piece is my thoughts as a role-player on Fallout 3. Bethesda are excellent at building sandbox worlds to explore and bringing them to life, and with Fallout they have gotten much better at creating memorable characters you care about. But they still don't have quite the skill at storytelling as some other games companies such as Bioware (who in turn aren't such good world builders in my opinion.) .

I found as I was playing Fallout 3 that my character as a person had nothing to live for after James dies. The writers had given you nothing else to work with except a little house in Megaton/Tenpenny and a Dog. The Brotherhood will let you join in a manner; but they will never send you out with a squad to fight super mutants or anything like that. You will never fight alongside the Rangers again, even after you join them. Ect, ect. There aren't even any 'guilds' in the mode of Oblivion to give your character a Job other than a restless Wanderer.

There are so many things that could have been expanded on and never where. It got to the point I had completed every quest in the game, collected enough caps and weapons to take over and make a settlement out of the entire wasteland, and had acquired and sent away practically every follower. Can you guess what the screen-shot of my Wanderer next to last the pre-Zeta save file was? The Lone Wanderer in Wasteland Doctor clothes simply sat at his desk in his Megaton house with only material wealth.

As even the games creators have said the only follower that goes with you out of love is Dogmeat; and as good as a pet is, it's not the same as a friend of wife. When the Wanderer loses his dad he literally loses the last connection he had emotionally to another human. And lets be honest, he never gets another one. His life returns to the status-quo that is formed when you receive the key to you house; every addon ends with this being all you really have.

Enter 'Mothership Zeta'. A lot of hardcore Fallout fans hate Zeta; some for the combat focus, some how unFallout it is. Personally it was exactly what I waited for, at least at the end. After it's over you've got a little girl who obviously really likes you and has attached herself to you emotionally, Elliot is working on fixing the ship and figuring it out, and you've been declared Captain of you own spaceship. Zeta, if only for Sally, saved my character from the fate of putting his own Magnum to his skull and pulling the trigger.

It seems a little different for Female Wanderers in my opinion. They have a few more life options, if only because of Butch. And Charon if your that way inclined. You have the, er, equipment to give birth to you own family with only a short encounter with another person required. Not ideal, but what in the Wasteland is? It's easier than a male Wanderer convincing Sarah Lyons over nine months leave from duty would be a good idea. A female character, again unless that way inclined, also isn't potentially losing a girlfriend that's the obvious marriage choice when leaving the vault.

I suppose my Wanderer also kicked himself in the gonads a title. Had he not been evil-via-grief for a short time and helped the Vault he could one day have ended up with Amata still. She eventually plans to open the Vault and Megaton is closest, so Mr Wanderer would likely be the best go between since he has experience with both places. Ah well, least he has Sally.

Sorry for the rant, almost as long as the actual fic. Hope you enjoyed; please leave a review.


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